Her Other Knight in Shining Armor
by Lieutenant Caine
Summary: The author's note inside explains this one better than a summary could do.


**A/N **Have no fear, dear readers. I have not changed my preference for the Horatio/Calleigh pairing, but it has occurred to me that Detective Frank Tripp seldom ever has even the slightest chance to interact with the females on the show in anything more than a professional manner. This is my take on what might happen if Frank happened to be out and ran into Calleigh one evening. Please, please indulge Athena.

Cal, my love, you may flog me later. But for now, just let me play. Love you, much my Sweetheart.

H

**Her Other Knight in Shining Armor**

The incessant throbbing of the music hummed through Calleigh's veins, sending pleasant vibrations all through her body. An overpowering bass beat almost drowned out the actual melody of the song, such as it was, and one actually ended up feeling the music instead of listening to it. That was fine by Calleigh. After the week they'd had at the lab she more than welcomed the opportunity to tune into something besides bullet striations and trace evidence. She closed her eyes and just let the music wash over and through her, feeling it smooth out the tangles in her mind. When she opened them again, the bartender was standing in front of her, looking at her expectantly.

"Ah, excuse me, Ma'am, but the gentleman across the room sent me to ask if he could buy you a drink."

Calleigh's eyes followed his to the table in the corner. A large, swarthy-looking man sat alone at the corner table. His face was dark and foreign looking, with a small thin mustache and goatee. A very large tiepin glittered in the dim light, and his thick, stubby fingers sparkled with rings when he moved his hands. His suit was obviously of expensive cut and tailoring and would have looked stunning on another more physically fit man perhaps, but on him it looked cheap. When he saw Calleigh look at him, he raised his class to her in acknowledgement. Calleigh gave him a small smile, one that was polite but by no means invited his next move.

He rose from the table and made his way to the bar, hoisting himself up onto the stool next to her, panting slightly in exertion. He turned toward her and introduced himself as Jackson Winlist, a Miami sales representative.

"I hope you don't mind my saying but you're a beautiful woman. I've watched you since you walked in the door. If you would allow me, I'd like to buy you a drink."

Something in his manner and tone of voice raised alarms in Calleigh's mind and she started to decline his offer, until he whispered for her hearing alone, "I wouldn't refuse, my dear."

Cold chills crept down her spine as she turned to look him squarely in the eye. "And if I do refuse?"

An oily smile covered the man's face and he edged closer to Calleigh in a predatory manner. "Then I will simply have to insist."

A slight motion below the level of the bar drew her attention and she dropped her gaze to find that he was holding a Ruger LCP .380 pocket pistol leveled straight at her head.

It was a rarity that anyone ever got the drop on Calleigh Duquesne, but she had locked both her badge and gun in the glove compartment of her car when she entered the club that evening. Raising her eyes to his again she saw him smile and slide the gun back into his suit pocket before motioning the bartender over to where they were sitting.

"I'd like a Comfort Dry Manhattan and the lady will have…" he turned to Calleigh with a questioning look.

Taking a terrible risk that the man seated beside her spoke Spanish and knew the intricacies of the language, she answered with a smile, "Quiero una mimosita."

The bar tender quirked one eyebrow but said nothing and turned to fix the drinks.

The man seemed to take it for granted that Calleigh's order was legitimate and he said nothing until the bartender turned around and placed the glasses on the bar in front of them. He wrapped stubby fingers around his glass, raised it toward Calleigh and intoned, "To you, beautiful lady."

"Thank, you," Calleigh said and raised her glass to her lips, desperately hoping the bartender had understood the strangeness of her drink request. The first sip sent relief crashing through her in waves. He had read her unspoken message and fixed the drink with no alcohol, simply the mixer. _Thank you, _she thought silently.

After finishing off his drink in two gulps, the man turned to Calleigh with an open leer on his face. "I like your company, my dear. You don't say much and I like that in a woman. Most of my women have a terrible habit of talking too much. They could learn a thing or two from you."

A shudder went through Calleigh's body as she realized exactly what the man was. He was a pimp and he was attempting to recruit her. _Okay, Calleigh, think. You're gonna have to think your way out of this one._

Taking the liberty of physical contact, the man laid a hand on Calleigh's thigh and began slowly sliding it upward toward her hip.

Just when Calleigh was certain that she was going to have to fight her way out of the situation, a hand landed heavily on her shoulder and a voice came from above her head.

"There you are, darlin'. Why didn't you wait for me?"

The sound of Frank Tripp's voice was the most welcomed thing she'd ever heard.

Calleigh only barely controlled the grin that threatened to split her face. Instead she fixed a chagrinned look on her countenance and looked up at the big detective hovering just above her.

"I'm sorry, babe. But after all day in the office I just had to get out a little early. Oh, meet Mr. Winless, (she deliberately mispronounced his name). He's been keeping me company and even bought me a drink."

"He bought you a drink?" Frank scowled down at her. "You know I don't like other men buying you drinks, darlin'.

Calleigh allowed a look of fear to cross her face. "Please, Roger, no scenes tonight. Let's order dinner and just have a nice quiet evening together. Please, love. For me?"

Frank glowered down at the man beside Calleigh before he nodded and said, "Okay, no scenes, but next time you will wait for me."

"Yes, babe, I will. Goodbye, Mr. Winless. Thanks for the drink."

Frank gave her a stern glance and spoke to the man. "I hope she wasn't a nuisance, Sir."

"Not a bit." The man snapped and turned his back on them, anger radiating from him in almost visible waves.

Frank escorted Calleigh to a table far away from the bar and the man who had accosted her. He pulled out a chair for her and made sure she was comfortable before seating himself beside her. He peered closely at her, gauging her reactions.

"He was givin' you trouble wasn't he? You okay?"

"Yeah, Frank, I'm okay. Just a little spooked. How did you…"

"How did I come to be in here?" Frank smiled. "I just didn't feel like going home to an empty apartment. How about you? Why are you here?"

"Ditto." Calleigh gave him a genuine smile and for a moment he covered her hand with his in a warm but brief clasp.

"Then I'm glad we both had the same plans." His eyes cut toward the man who was still seated at the bar head down over this third drink. "I'm really glad, Calleigh."

"Yeah, so am I. Thanks for the rescue, Frank." Calleigh reached and placed a quick kiss on his cheek and grinned at the blush that suffused his face.

"Ah, now, cut that out, Cal."

"You're such a dear, Frank. Now how about dinner? You know, I was supposed to wait for you," she teased him gently.

"Are you for real?" Frank asked as though unable to believe that she would want to have dinner with him.

"Absolutely. Come on. I know of great little place we can go and just relax together and have a good meal without…" her eyes strayed back toward the man at the bar and then back to Frank's kind face. "…without any annoying interruptions."

"All right, then. Let's go, _darlin_," his emphasis on the word let Calleigh know he was entering into her little teasing game and she smiled.

Frank wrapped a protective arm around her waist and led her to the door and out to his waiting car.


End file.
